


let me be tender

by paradox_n_bedrock



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Conversations on the Porch, F/F, Marie gets some much-deserved love and attention, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Abuse, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Strap-Ons, Yearning, Zelda Spellman is a Size Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradox_n_bedrock/pseuds/paradox_n_bedrock
Summary: Her heart beat hard at Zelda’s suggestion, wondering if the woman had somehow caught on to her plans, but she only took her last puffs off the cigarette in its golden holder and stubbed out the remnants before they made their way inside and up to the bedroom, tension rising once more as Zelda hovered close, the brush of her hand against Marie’s back blotting out the awareness of much beyond the two of them.--A tentative conversation about the past and future, but mostly the present, and Marie gets as much attention as she can handle, thoroughly derailing her own plans for the evening.
Relationships: Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 39
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CCNSurvivor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCNSurvivor/gifts).



> Major, major props to muscatmusic18 and other friends for helping me work through the kinks, figuratively speaking. I accepted this prompt months ago, and it's taken far too long to fill, but thanks, HB, for the perfect suggestion. This is dedicated to your invaluable support and kindness.

Zelda approached her after dinner, sidling up as they were clearing the once beautifully set table, now strewn with plates and half-empty serving bowls, somehow theatrically discrete in her manner. At the edge of her vision, Hilda turned away with a poorly hidden grin, not any less obvious than her sister. Marie caught her own fond smile, turning it into something less transparent—for Zelda’s comfort, though hiding anything from _most_ of her family was a fruitless effort—and leaned into the other woman's space, picking up a dish in the process.

Marie’s skin sparked at the nearness, as it always did, the air seeming to crackle between them, and goosebumps rose visibly on Zelda’s forearms as she lifted a plate from the table. “Will you be staying tonight?” Zelda husked, more breath than words.

 _Only if I am welcome,_ echoed through her mind. The phrase that had changed so much for them both, that had prompted the High Priestess to carve out space in her life for her. The moment when Marie had admitted to herself that she was going to uproot her own life for a woman almost as much as to fulfill her fate. Part of her wanted to say it, felt the reverberation of that exchange anytime Zelda extended such an invitation. But that sentiment was too heavy to share now. And by this point, unnecessary, as it was apparent that she was more than welcome. “My bag is already in your room.”

“Marvelous.” Her eyes sparkled with glee as she slipped away to the kitchen after Hilda, spine straight. Marie paused before following, trying to ground herself against the effect Zelda had on her. They passed back and forth, circling each other as they brought dishes to Hilda at the counter or to Ambrose at the sink, and Marie fixed her attention on the task at hand, feeling likely to drop something if she caught Zelda’s eyes at the wrong time.

Once the table was clear, with nothing more to do, Marie made her way through the house and out onto the porch for a few minutes of fresh air. She leaned against the railing, looking out at the woods and the stars—brighter here than in New Orleans, but less so than outside Port-au-Prince—and the chill settled in within moments, cooling her heated face. 

Zelda joined her before too long, handing off a tumbler of whiskey before sitting back in one of the wicker chairs on the porch. She mourned, not for the first time, that there wasn’t a loveseat instead, where they could sit together hip to hip, but was gratified when Zelda dragged the other closer with only a careless wave before Marie joined her.

Faint noise from within the house filtered out to them, the clanking of dishes and occasional bursts of laughter from Ambrose and Hilda as they chatted, joy in their voices palpable and soothing.

The chairs were close enough that she could reach Zelda’s hand, and she took advantage of it, brushing over the soft skin and the growing writer’s callus she’d given up on subduing, to intertwine their fingers.

The other woman clutched at them briefly, more of a reflexive movement than anything deliberate. Zelda sipped at her drink and shifted in her seat, staring out at the dim line of the forest, and Marie waited, knowing the signs, until eventually, the silence was broken, with a quiet, even question.

"Is this really what you want?"

"Is what, _ma chérie_?"

“You know what,” she huffed, irritation covering the struggle that lay just beneath the surface. 

"You know exactly how much I want you.” The moment pulled taut, as Marie tried to catch up to a conversation she hadn’t been prepared for.

“Are you happy in Greendale?” Zelda asked, finally, tearing her gaze from the distant trees to fix on Marie.

She squeezed her hand back, in an attempt at comfort, and then let her escape, feeling Zelda twitch under her palm. “Do I not make that clear every day?”

Zelda hummed, noncommittal, and Marie wondered what had turned her mood so quickly. Had her own train of thought been so apparent? She might never learn what had caused it. That Zelda was showing her hand at all was already a miracle.

“I would not have thought I’d be happy,” she continued. “I knew change was coming, but I did not think I could be truly satisfied, away from everything I had established, and the vibrancy of home,” she said, thinking more of her recent years in Louisiana than Haiti. She had built a business there, built a new community, and tried to rebuild it again after the hurricane. She had fallen in and out of love—more than once, and grown into herself in ways that had given her the strength to uproot herself once more. She missed the sound of jazz when stepping outside her door in the 4th Ward, she missed her neighbor, who always made extra shrimp gumbo, and strangers who were never entirely strangers in the way they were here. 

She sobered as her wording hit Zelda, casting her face in stone, and turned fully, searching to see if the words would reach her, opening her heart as much as she could without it cracking. “But I have started over before, let everything go to take a risk on the next step of my journey. I have never regretted it, and I do not regret doing the same to come here.”

Silence fell between them, less tense this time. There was so much to miss here, as well, if she went back. Walks in the forest on cool, foggy mornings, Dr. Cerberus’s bookstore and the strange papaya smoothie he made just for her, the peace of Hilda’s lush greenhouse, and _Zelda._ To think of Zelda hundreds of miles away, smoking alone on her porch after dinner, while she was hawking _gris-gris_ bags to tourists… Her stomach twisted. And like the fleeting image had prompted her, Zelda lit a cigarette, relaxing back with her first long draw. 

“Have I told you that I haven’t always lived here? I spent decades traveling the Old World. Years in France, Russia, Japan… I’ve seen much less of the States, I’m afraid, and none of the Caribbean.”

The implication of her words, carefully phrased to avoid assumptions, struck Marie, winding her. It was not a promise, it was much too early for that, it might always be too early for that. It was not anything but a half-voiced maybe, but the hesitant undercurrent was revealing of her seriousness. She leaned across, kissing Zelda solidly, one hand capturing her wrist, holding the cigarette safely away from them both. “Someday, Zelda Spellman.”

Zelda brought their hands between them, taking another exaggerated pull, and blew the smoke off to the side, lips curling up in a mischievous smile. “Let’s go upstairs, darling.”

Her heart beat hard at Zelda’s suggestion, wondering if the woman had somehow caught on to her plans, but she only took her last puffs off the cigarette in its golden holder and stubbed out the remnants before they made their way inside and up to the bedroom, tension rising once more as Zelda hovered close, the brush of her hand against Marie’s back blotting out the awareness of much beyond the two of them. The low chatter fading out, Ambrose’s music disappearing, there was only the creak of their footsteps and the sound of her breath, growing harsh in her ears as they entered.

She abandoned their drinks on the bedside table as Zelda made her own intentions clear, coming up behind Marie to press firmly against her, hands grasping her waist. “We do not have to-”

“I know. Let me focus on tonight,” she replied, the rasp of her voice making Marie shiver more acutely than the night’s chill ever had. 

Zelda fixed her attention on her neck, the brush of lips already weakening her knees, and hands started to wander, across the plane of her stomach and then dipping over the curve of her hip, the light pressure only enough to make her ache to be closer with an intensity that was becoming an ever-present mark of her interactions with Zelda, both physical and otherwise. Her grip grew tighter for a moment, Zelda apparently feeling the same need, and Marie had to steady herself against the table.

Zelda tugged at the lush fabric of her dress, gathering it up around her thighs, more careless than she would ever be with her own clothing. “Get this off,” she said, but when Marie moved to do so, she worked just as impatiently to free her, pulling the long garment up over her head. She spun, urgently capturing Zelda’s lips, burying fingers in her golden hair, sinking into her further with each passing moment.

When they parted, there was a pause as Zelda took her in, expression not quite open, but neither entirely shuttered. And then she was tracing lines, sweeping across the flat plane of her abdomen, up, up, over the underside of her now bare breast and higher, without lingering, until she was following the defined line of her collarbone. And then pushed her, flat-palmed, onto the bed, leaving her gasping.

She slid backward as Zelda followed with unfair grace, the look on her face turning hungry, until she was kissing Marie slowly, tongue slipping out to meet hers. Her hand dropped to Marie’s neck, the backs of her fingers trailing, unerringly lighting up the sensitive areas behind her ear, under her jaw. She found herself intensely aware of the movement, unable to focus on anything else, as Zelda stroked over her chest, over the fullness of her breasts, down to her ribs and swirled back up again at a glacial pace, all the while avoiding where she was beginning to ache for her touch.

She arched, pushing into Zelda’s hands, making the woman chuckle into her mouth, and then, finally, her thumb swept across the peak of one nipple. Marie broke away with a quiet moan, unable, unwilling to contain it.

Above her, Zelda’s eyes were sharp with intent, and her thumb swept back again, the slightest hint of dull nail scraping the hardened peak. “I know you had something in mind this evening, Marie, but I’m afraid I’m just getting started. I do hope you’ll indulge me.”

She felt the heat rising in her cheeks at the revelation and tried to school her expression, knowing it was useless when she was so off-balance. “I am hardly going to complain about the direction tonight is taking, though it means you will have to wait to discover your surprise.”

Zelda’s lips twitched, pleased and intrigued, “I suppose, if you’re going to be patient, I can be, as well.” She moved away to strip off her own clothes, it was a production, as always, one Marie very much enjoyed, as she flicked open buttons and unsnapped garters, but with a hurried energy that didn’t at all translate to the way she had been touching Marie.

Her caress resumed, a deft stroke circling her pebbled areola and then edging towards more direct stimulation. A graze, and then another, and then capturing it between two fingers, pinching gently. She gasped, eyes falling shut, and was startled into another moan when the hot wetness of Zelda’s mouth closed around the other. The swirl of her tongue sending sparks skittering down her spine until her hips rocked against nothing, Zelda moving to deny her that even that bit of relief. She teased, only drawing Marie’s awareness down further, to only the weight of her body and the maddening attentions of her hand and mouth.

And then she was pulling away. She groaned, disappointed, even the woman smiled impishly at her, lipstick mostly smeared away and nuzzled, self-satisfied, along her ribs. She went back to her patient touches, broadly sweeping over the planes of her body. Stomach, chest, down her arms to the sensitive skin of her inner wrists, up her thighs—fingertips dipping just within the edge of cotton lace. She held her breath—and then Zelda moved on, eventually skimming back up to tease over the swell of her breasts once more. 

She did it again, and again, Zelda driving her higher and then backing off, directing the ebb and flow of her pleasure without mercy.

She focused her attention more intensely this time, more pressure, more suction, tongue flicking against the hardened buds, while fingers splayed over her ribs, stroking her skin in gentle contrast. It went on forever, the edge of teeth sending her higher, making Marie twist helplessly, both into and away from the stimulation, pressing her thighs together for some bit of relief. Eventually, Zelda pulled away tutting with mock-disapproval. “I asked for patience, didn’t I?”

“Zelda…” she begged, even as she clasped her tighter with shaking hands, on the edge of sobbing from the desperation pulling her under. Finally, _finally,_ Zelda pressed her hand flat against the damp fabric between her legs, and she bucked against it, panting at the brief reprieve.

Zelda moved back, peeling the cotton down as she went, and Marie was suddenly very aware of how wet she was. She met Zelda’s pleased countenance, unashamed, and parted her trembling legs further. Zelda’s gaze dropped, her smirk falling to something more heated, and she reached out, fingers parting Marie’s soaked curls without preamble. “I do wonder, could you climax from just that? You seemed... awfully close.”

Marie shuddered, her whole body reacting to the thought of that exquisite torture under Zelda’s hands and mouth continuing, until she was past the point of overstimulation, of begging, pushing her over that ledge until she was freefalling, without ever giving her _more._ Zelda brushed over her lips, then, and she bucked, crying out. _“Tanpri!_ Another time, _mon amour._ I… wouldn’t be opposed to finding out.” 

_“Tanpri?”_ she repeated, the accent just shy of flawless, still influenced by her French. “Is your patience running out?"

_“Yes.”_

Zelda sighed, a satisfied sound, and obliged, fingers stroking over her again. She groaned, in shaken relief, and her hips rose of their own volition, chasing the contact. Zelda continued, her fingers circling lightly, so lightly that Marie still wanted to cry, but slowly the pressure increased until finally, Zelda ceased her teasing in earnest, giving her exactly what she needed. And it was working, fast, too fast, pushing her rapidly closer to her peak. She arched, so close, seeking all that Zelda had been denying her-

And she was left floundering again, hands balling into fists as she tried to keep from cursing. Zelda kissed her face, her shoulder, soft but unapologetic. She pressed her head into the pillow, panting harsh breaths as Zelda started again. She rocked into the touch, everything too much, too intense, from the brush of Zelda’s hair on her chest to the fingers between her legs.

“Wait, _wait,_ ” she heard herself say, almost disbelieving that she had the strength to stop Zelda now.

Her hand snaked away, resting on Marie’s hip for a moment, shining with her wetness, and then was removed entirely. 

“Was that-”

She cradled Zelda’s face in shaking hands, wishing to reassure her but still on the edge of overwhelmed, shifting restlessly with her receding orgasm. She nodded, kissing her once, and again. Marie drew an unsteady breath, wanting to give in, wanting to stretch out beneath her and beg Zelda to continue. “If you keep going, I am going to be useless for the rest of the night.”

“I see no problem with that.”

“I would like to see how you feel about my surprise before I lose the strength for it.”

Zelda scoffed, still confused. “I can’t believe you wanted to stop for… what?” she asked, voice growing soft, almost apprehensive.

“I do not wish to lose my nerve, _tu vois_?” 

“What is it then? Tell me.”

Marie felt her face warm again, but had enough confidence in her knowledge of her lover to suspect that this would be of some interest. “Let me show you, _ma chérie."_


	2. Chapter 2

Marie slid out of bed on unsteady legs, getting up to cross the room to where her overnight bag had been tossed on the chair of Zelda’s vanity earlier. She dug through her clothes, blocking Zelda’s view with her body as she found the item she was seeking, freeing it from its satin pouch.

Turning, Marie held up the toy for Zelda’s approval. It was thick, with a curved, ridged base that was supposed to nestle against her own anatomy. The harness dangled from her other index finger, slightly tangled from being stored away. She had hoped Zelda would find her idea suitable, and it seemed she needn’t have worried, since her face lit with interest, and she rose, closing the distance between them in a few quick steps.

Zelda took the heft of it in her hand, slipping it into the o-ring for Marie. Her hair fell across her face as she looked down at their hands, working together to get the toy into place, laughing lightly when they fumbled. Marie stepped into the harness, pulling it up her legs and tightening the straps around her hips, taking her time adjusting so it sat just right. When Zelda reached out again, Marie felt lightheaded watching her fingers wrap around the shaft. “It is not too much?” 

She tilted her head, flashing a coy smile powered with wholly unneeded seduction, and moved closer, ghosting her lips over the shell of Marie’s ear. “It’s perfect.” Marie gasped as she pushed the base against her, the feeling more intense than she had anticipated. “I knew you had a plan for tonight.”

“And you have taken every opportunity to derail it.”

“Are you displeased by my efforts?” A confident tone, but a thread of doubt tainted it, and Marie, not for the first time nor the hundredth, wanted to curse the man who’d shaken her so.

 _Never._ Overcome with affection, she tamped down the urge to provide more effusive reassurance and responded, “Delighted seems more accurate.”

She backed her towards the bed, Zelda stepping quickly, one foot after the other. For one long moment, it felt like a surreal dance, playful and heated, and then she was sliding onto the surface, pulling Marie with her as she went. She followed willingly, feeling Zelda’s breath grow short as she stretched out atop her.

The yearning to touch her was easily overcoming her own need, even as Zelda pressed up with a thigh, watching for Marie’s reaction. However, there was something worrying lurking in her expression, revealing an emotion darker than excitement.

“There is no obligation here, Zelda.”

“Don't be silly, I want this.”

Marie held back, still concerned, hoping they had gotten far enough that Zelda could admit the truth. _"Chérie…"_

Zelda tried to draw her closer, but there was more than passion to it, a note of frustrated energy that made her wary.

"I believe you. But if now is not the time, there will be others."

She huffed, an irritated, broken sound, and Marie knew how tired she was of her body’s mixed reactions. “No, I want to…"

“Then let us take our time. See what happens. Kiss me for a while, eh?” Zelda did, and Marie could feel her anxiety in it, feel the fight with herself to relax. And then with immeasurable slowness, the rigidity eased, the fingers curled into the nape of her neck loosened, Zelda’s body growing soft and yielding underneath her. “We are not going to do anything that you are uncomfortable with.”

"Come here.”

Marie settled carefully between her legs, the silicone pressing between them, and Zelda rocked against it, breath hitching, even as the furrow in her brow deepened.

“You did surprise me, you know.”

“I do hope I never stop."

“I wouldn’t have thought this was something you were interested in.”

“I will admit, it is not normally something I have strong feelings towards. But I thought you would enjoy it.”

“This is all for me?” she asked, sounding both confused and intrigued.

“I did find myself quite eager to give it a try, with you. The idea of having my hands free to touch you, of being able to kiss you, while you are here underneath me…” Zelda kissed her again, artless and untroubled this time, and the heat grew rapidly between them. There was nothing in the world like kissing Zelda, nothing that made her feel as lost, nothing that made her burn in the same way, and she had to pull away, searching Zelda’s face for now absent signs of distress.

“Please,” Zelda said, tilting her hips, and she gave in, reaching to slip her fingers into Zelda’s wetness. 

Her nails bit crescents into Marie’s shoulders. “Do you feel what touching you does to me?”

 _“Tu es tellement mouillée."_ She drew a breath, its quiver echoing all the way to the tips of her fingers as they stroked through the river between Zelda’s legs. “What will make you feel good?”

“Inside.”

Marie obliged, sliding fingers into the slick grip of her. 

Her strokes were easy, curling gently, and Zelda opened further to Marie’s attention, almost seeming more at ease with Marie within her, allowing her to add another before too long. She felt blessed to be so trusted, so welcomed by a body often held with such tension.

“Marie…” she murmured, reaching out to tug at the harness, fingers looping in near her hipbone.

“You want…?”

_“Yes."_

Marie repositioned herself, guiding the blunt tip to her entrance. Hands pulled her in and this time she could readily follow their guidance.

Zelda groaned as she pushed forward, arching against her. 

“Alright?”

She nodded sharply, words seeming caught in her throat.

Marie sank inside her, incrementally, and Zelda drew her close, until her head was tucked into Zelda’s neck, until she could feel Zelda’s heart beating against her chest.

And then she moved, a slow roll of her hips, and Zelda moved in counterpoint, together building a unhurried rhythm—the base pressing into her, making her ache to extend each stroke—and she had to see her face, propping herself up on one arm to meet Zelda’s dazed look.

There was a languorous air about them, as she continued in measured thrusts, finding what would make Zelda tremble. She felt entranced by the woman spread beneath her, all gentle curves and mussed hair. Her eyelashes rested against her cheeks in a soot-colored sweep, before opening again to fix on Marie, and that alone was enough to make her ache, the trust she was being shown staggering, not just in the act but in its honesty, when she was sure Zelda would rather have denied her fear and pushed on without ever acknowledging its presence.

She dipped to meet her lips, without much of the finesse she typically possessed, but Zelda seemed to crave it, matching her with an equal fervor until she pulled away to affix her mouth to the elegant column of her neck.

Running her free hand over the lush facets of Zelda’s body, she aimed to return a fraction of the attention that had been bestowed on her. She reached the full curve of her breast and then rolled its peak between her fingers, the firmness of her touch escalating gradually until Zelda hissed at the stimulation and she relented to soothe it.

Eventually, her hand swept up Zelda’s bent leg, cupping it behind the knee, her caress of the sensitive skin there making Zelda squirm as she raised her leg. She wrapped them both around her waist, jolting as Marie tested the new angle. “Still not too much?”

“Spare me the false modesty,” she replied breathlessly. “You knew exactly what I’d like.”

“I always like to make sure I am right.”

Zelda’s laugh cut off into a moan as she drove forward again, and again, in long, full strokes that had the redhead bracing a hand against the headboard for leverage.

She adjusted to Zelda’s rhythm, reading the cues of her body as it demanded more, and Marie gave willingly all that she had, captivated by Zelda’s responses. 

She had been right to think this would be enjoyable with Zelda; the gratification she drew from it went far beyond the physical, in the ability to watch so closely as she grew desperate, to hold her, to link their hands as this new connection opened between them. She strained to kiss Marie, muffling the uninhibited whimpers that only fueled her need to drive deeper, to push Zelda to greater heights.

Zelda's hips rocked harder, a growing frenetic quality to the motion, her desire reaching a fever pitch that she never seemed to be able to crest, regardless of what Marie did to get her there. The grip of her hand turned tight, into a tense clutch bordering on painful.

“What do you want?” she asked, keeping up her steady pace. ”Anything you need, I will give it to you.”

Her brow only knitted again, a sheen of sweat breaking out there and across her chest as she pushed back, seeking what she couldn’t quite reach.

She gave up on asking, intuition and experience both leading her to roll over, taking Zelda with her, to the best of her ability.

Zelda followed without reservation, straddling her and sinking slowly back down onto the thick length. Her eyes closed in relief, in pleasure, as she seated herself firmly against Marie.

Marie ran her hands up the silk of Zelda’s thighs, grasping, as they began to move together once more. “Better?” She didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes fluttered open, shining green leaving Marie defenseless. She spoke again, almost without realizing it. “Always, anything you need, _ma chérie,_ I want to provide.”

Fingers ghosted over her cheek, and then her lips, where she pressed a kiss to them and sucked the tips into her mouth. Zelda shuddered, rising and falling with more purpose until Marie couldn’t contain her own groan. She traced her wet fingers down, playing at Marie’s nipples, the returned attention to the sensitive buds almost too much. _"You_ make this better. Everything-” she cut herself off, grinding down until Marie’s hands clutched her tighter, trying to ground herself against the sensation. “Touch me?”

Marie slid her hand between them, thumb circling Zelda’s clit as she rocked above her, every motion sending her hair swaying in a golden wave as she gazed down at Marie. 

She felt as though she was falling into her, unable to tear herself away even if she wished to, as Zelda allowed Marie to see her as free and open as she ever had.

And then her thighs clamped tight around Marie, her tremors reaching a violent pitch as she was finally able to give in, back bowing, an anguished sound pouring from her throat. And Marie eased her through it, prolonging her pleasure until Zelda slumped, boneless, onto Marie, still moving restlessly through the aftershocks.

Marie stilled, not wanting to overwhelm Zelda. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the waves of arousal and let go of the urgent need to chase her own pleasure. And then, after long moments, Zelda moved again, in a deliberate, prolonged grind and she gasped, eyes flying open. She was still draped over her, warm and radiant, her curtain of red hair falling about her face. She rolled her hips a second time, watching Marie's reaction with a new gravity.

“Like this?”

_"Zelda."_

She placed Marie’s hands back on her hips, encouraging her to guide the motion. “Keep going.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

She led Zelda in a languid roll that dragged against her clit. And again, the pressure exquisite enough to steal her breath. “ _J'aime ça._ ”

“ _Moi aussi_. I don’t always want to feel in control, Marie. Not here.”

“I know, _bien sûr,_ I know...” Marie pressed upwards on the next movement, and Zelda’s eyes darkened further, her mouth dropping open. 

Marie continued, still surprised by how _good_ it was, by how much she felt, wondering how much of the intensity was from Zelda’s earlier efforts leaving her on the edge. Her direction kept their pace achingly slow and the sensation built in endless waves, coiling tight as she pulled Zelda against her, fingers digging into the plush swell of her ass. Zelda gasped, encouragement spilling from her lips, though Marie could barely distinguish the words as she sought her release.

She heard her own voice crying out, Zelda’s name on her lips. This time she didn’t stop and neither did Zelda, and she rose higher, higher, the tension building until she felt as though she would snap, and then she did, crashing over her peak, only the low sound of Zelda’s speech rumbling through her body keeping her anchored.

She was floating, weightless, everything buzzing, for an eternity. And then she was being kissed and she was laughing breathlessly into it, unsure she was actually in control of any part of her shaking body. Her eyelids heavy, her limbs sluggish to respond.

When she did wrestle back any ability to focus, Zelda was sliding off of her, the loss startling. She licked her lips, assessing Marie with a sharp gaze. “That wasn’t enough, was it?” Her nails skimmed across Marie’s thigh, provoking a full-body shiver she couldn’t hide.

“You have teased me enough for one day, yes?” 

“Don’t worry, dear. No more of that,” she said, her tone too heavy and full of promise to be comforting. 

She moved down the bed, hands already reaching to loosen the straps, pulling at them so she could comfortably slip her fingers beneath. Then it wasn't enough and she was stripping the harness away and settling between Marie's legs, the hunger in her expression leaving Marie shaken. And then her mouth was on her, hot and soft, still ever so soft, working her up again until she was straining for more pressure, shaking, vision fading out, feeling nothing but the caress of Zelda’s tongue and the touch of her fingers, and then she was careening, helpless, over the edge, trusting Zelda to guide her back. 

Eventually, she began to regain awareness of her surroundings once more. The sheet pulled up around her. The silkiness of skin pressed against her side. The leisurely brush of a hand across her stomach. “How do you feel?” Zelda murmured.

After some moments of drifting, unable to wrest control of her vocal cords, or to piece together the words to describe it, Marie touched Zelda's cheek with a trembling hand, and replied, “Like I have come home.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think and find me on Tumblr [here](https://paradox-n-bedrock.tumblr.com/post/628619328204488704/let-me-be-tender-chapter-1-paradoxnbedrock).


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